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goldenlangur

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Out the open door

the fields and sky

merge.

 

Teaks in the breeze

and car head lights

sway, slide, shift

one into another.

 

The stone walls and the ridge

blur under a sullen sky.

Dusk hangs on the last notes

of a black bulbul in flight.

 

I feel you’re here.

 

 

 

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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An exquisite blend of tropical imagery. I picture a resort destination, because you mention the car headlights; they indicate the location is not undeveloped. I imagine myself looking out the open door of a motel, perhaps at ground level or from the second floor, at the teaks and the ribbon of road, with light to moderate traffic, on a late afternoon.

 

The use of the word sullen to describe the sky signifies that all is not right. And though the last line has a positive connotation -- one of peaceful acceptance -- it nevertheless imparts an air of unrest: the one who is missing is obviously not there, in the physical sense.

 

This poem has a sense of desolation to which I can relate. It reminds me of when I was in Florida.

 

Here is a link that shows a bulbul:

 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Brown-eared_Bulbul_1.jpg

 

Thanks for sharing this one, Golden. I read it numerous times.

 

Tony

Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic

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The stone walls and the ridge

blur under a sullen sky.

Dusk hangs on the last notes

of a black bulbul in flight.

 

I feel you’re here.

 

wonderful written poem...I like it goldenlangur. And I agree with Tony's comment.

 

Thank you for sharing.

 

Aleksandra

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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I like the sustained tone of the poem, GL, and your diction kept up the level from 'merge' to 'blur'.

"Words are not things, and yet they are not non-things either." - Ann Lauterbach

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goldenlangur

Your detailed review

Hi Tony,

 

Your detailed review is most rewarding and I like very much how you've read the images and their links with such perception:

 

The use of the word sullen to describe the sky signifies that all is not right. And though the last line has a positive connotation -- one of peaceful acceptance -- it nevertheless imparts an air of unrest: the one who is missing is obviously not there, in the physical sense.

 

You're quite right about the 'tropical' landscape - the Himalayan foothills have humid, monsoon summers and warm winters.

 

How thoughtful of you to post the Wiki link for the bulbul. This song bird is quite common in this region between the Indian plains and the Bhutanese foothills. Most sublime its song! The white throated one is also found here.

 

Thank-you very much.

 

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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goldenlangur

I'm so glad Aleksandra that you enjoyed this little piece.

 

 

Thank-you for your warmly supportive comments.

 

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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goldenlangur

the words

 

Thank you JoelJoso for your thumbs-up :)

 

I'm grateful that you liked the words in this piece.

 

 

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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Hi gl, I read this earlier and didn't comment because I wanted to come back to it. I read it little differently than the others. :shock: I thought maybe with time my impression would change, it didn't.

 

I totally agree that the images of the landscape ring with an exotic lush tone as does all of your poetry. I am grateful to Tony for posting the link to the bulbul which is a beautiful bird and one I had never heard of. You are certainly giving me an education. Before meeting you here I had not heard of Bhutan or the golden langur either. :oops:

 

Unlike the others I am hearing a sad, tragic tone in this poem.

 

car lights - shift one into another (a head-on collision or at least a light blinding a driver which could send a car off the road) Forgive me, I bring my own baggage to this poem. I am an insurance agent and I have heard this or similar description of lights merging more often than I would have liked, usually resulting in an automobile accident.

 

stone wall and ridge - hard harsh images

sullen sky - foreboding

last notes - final, death

I feel you're here - only the spirit is felt

 

Death happens and we lose those we love. Without drama or graphic detail that some might express, the way I read it, this poem beautifully, silently shares a tragedy.

 

~~Tink

~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~

For permission to use this work you can write to Tinker1111@icloud.com

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goldenlangur

death touches...

 

 

Hi Tink,

 

 

 

Thank-you very much for taking the trouble to post a comprehensive and sensitive review. I'm grateful that you and others in this forum enjoy the physical details of the landscape I write about.

 

Yes, you're right there's certainly a mournful tone to this piece and loss of someone dear as also the end of an era as we begin a year of political changes with our free and democratic elections and the vast 'progressive' urbanization of our landscape which awaits us, all play on the mind here.

 

I appreciate your review and the thought and care you've taken to grasp the emotions that the words hint at.

 

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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  • 1 year later...

Another good one, gl. You have hit the mother lode. More, more....

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Hi goldenlangur,

 

I too, like Tinker, felt the somber tone here and did not sense much civilization upon first read... it made me think of driving steep narrow roads in undeveloped parts of Puerto Rico, although that may have been because I had no idea what a bulbul was, although the "in flight" let me recognize it as a kind of bird (thank you!). :)

 

I also found this Wiki article interesting: BulBul Wiki, especially the part in the first paragraph that says, "The only Bulbul which occurs in Europe was spotted in the Cyclades and bears a yellow patch, being otherwise of a snuffy brown and this is possibly the bird which has got mixed up with the nightingale in Sufi, particularly Persian Sufi, poetry." Hmmm... I learned something today, which, as always, makes it a good day.

 

~Rachel

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Golden,

 

Another lush perfectly pitched piece- I find it wistful and full of memory rather than somber- it represents to me the deep remembrance of 'place' as memory of the other- enjoyed!

 

DC&J

thegateless.org Come on over and check out my poetry substack y'all;-) Or if your bored, head to the Zazzle store: https://www.zazzle.com/store/gateless. If you buy anything I lose a bet, so consider that before you violate the digital rules.

 

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